There was a man inside a bottle, inside an Ocean that could see. The ocean tapped upon the glass, the man said “I’m busy don’t bother me.”

The Ocean was persistent, it had all the time to wave. The man was so consistent, thinking he knew how to behave.

The Ocean kept on knocking as the bottle kept on rocking, while inside the stubborn man stayed distracted by his talking.

The Ocean loved the man for it would not give up on him, in time the talking ceased the man was all alone again. No longer entertained by the voice of his own talk, he leaned against the bottle as the Ocean steady rocked.

He began to understand that there was something big and wondrous outside, and realizing he ignored it soon his heart began to cry.

He cried out please don’t leave me, I was busy talking I didn’t know. Please come knock again its very crowded all in here alone.

Dear Ocean, Father, Friend of mine, please don’t give up on me. As his breath began to fog the glass, the man began to see.

The Ocean became invisible, but the veil that hid it all the same. The man soon came to know the Ocean and he were never separate, rather substances the same.

The man stayed very quiet, waiting for the Oceans tap. But the tap it did not come, so soon the man began to nap.

Inside the bottle floating in the Ocean that could see, the man began to dream that the Ocean it was he.

In this dream floated a bottle, while inside a sleeping man. The Ocean yearned to wake him so it created an elaborate plan.

With all the time to wave, the Seeing Ocean rocked itself to sleep. Awakening as a man inside a bottle, through foggy glass began to see.

A burst of freedom, joy exclaimed, the Man wept oceanic loving grateful tears.

“How did I never see before this bottle that was gifted?”

“Why was I busy talking when within your substance I am lifted?”

The Ocean smiled infinite, saturated with pure glee. Then the Ocean as the Man, spoke through its own vessel that could see.

I am He, I am He, from the Ocean said a Man.

I am He, I am He, I don’t not need there is a plan.

The vessel grew into an old man, in perfect time to rejoin it’s own ocean. He closed his eyes, the bottle opened, starting another rocking motion.

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